


In a Lather

by acornsandravens



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cohabitation, F/M, Masturbation in Shower, Morning Wood, Tumblr: imagineyourotp, general fluffing around, showering together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 17:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acornsandravens/pseuds/acornsandravens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short tale of shower shenanigans. Written for the imagineyourotp.tumblr.com prompt: Imagine your OTP taking a casual morning shower together. Person A is feeling a bit frisky, but just as things start to heat up Person B realizes that they’re going to be terribly late for wherever it is they need to be. Person B goes to exit the shower despite Person A’s continuous kisses and caresses, but just as they’re about to step out Person A grabs them and pins them back against the shower wall, a playfully devious grin creeping onto their face as they insist that their appointment can wait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Lather

**Author's Note:**

> I switched the roles a bit, but whatever.

Gendry stepped beneath the shower’s spray, shutting his eyes tight and sighing in contentment as the warm water ran over his face. He still wasn’t fully awake, and the steam of the shower was making him wish he’d stayed in bed a little longer. He fought off a yawn as he drowsily lathered himself. Maybe he’d be better off taking a cold shower this morning, he decided, knuckling the water out of his eyes and sparing a glance downwards. Yes, a cold shower might have been more suitable, but he shrugged. _Why not?_ He decided, and wrapped a hand around his cock to take care of the insistent ache he’d woken up with.

Truthfully, it had been Arya he’d woken up with, pressed flush against him and naked as the day she’d been born, the soft curve of her ass unbearably tempting. He’d wanted to wake her up slowly with his hands and his lips and then fuck her until they both decided to go back to sleep and forget the day, but if her tossing and turning had been any indication she hadn’t slept well, and Arya had a terrible temper if she didn’t get enough sleep. So he’d done the noble thing and staggered out of bed and tucked the blankets tight back around her, wondering if she’d wake when she reached for him and found he’d left their bed.

That left him limited options for dealing with a very acute need, but luckily he’d had a bit of practice at it during his confusing adolescent years and plenty of inspiration lately. He’d just managed to call up his favorite fantasy--memory, really-- of what they referred to as ‘the thing that happened in the Tyrell’s coat closet after we decided to see how much free Veuve Clicquot we could drink’ when he’d heard the blaring of their alarm from the other room, followed by an overdramatic groan and a lot of scrambling about.

His hand was still firmly engaged around his morning erection when Arya came rushing into their bathroom. He could hear her bare feet slap against the tile and the squeaking of her palm against the fogged mirror, her soft curse at the reflection she saw there. After a moment he heard the toilet flush and quickly stepped out of the shower’s spray before it alternately froze and scalded him, but Arya had no such reservations and came tumbling into the tub with him, toothbrush in hand.

The shower curtain tangled around her and Gendry suddenly found himself with a meter of wet plastic stuck to his leg, looking on in confusion while Arya furiously scrubbed at herself under the showerhead. “Fuck, that’s COLD,” she yelped, spitting a mouthful toothpaste down the drain. Reaching past the curtain, she pitched her toothbrush onto the bathroom counter, then grabbed the shampoo too quickly and knocked a collection of plastic bottles down in the process. She cursed heartily when they fell on her toes and looked like she was still half asleep. Her hair was wet and sticking up untidily while she attempted to lather it, and there was still a bit of an imprint on her cheek from the pillow she’d spent the night wrestling with and shoving over his face unintentionally while she slept. The rest of her was an expanse of soft skin and scattered goose bumps, and she shivered and crossed her arms over her chest when she stood back under the water to rinse her hair.

“What are you doing up?” he asked, puzzled.

“Don’t you ever say good morning?” Arya grumbled, still hugging herself to keep in some of her warmth.

“You _hate_ mornings,” he reminded her. He watched the suds drip down her narrow shoulders and the water run over her skin in rivulets, wondering how she’d taste right now if he were to chase one of those little rivers with his tongue. Unable to resist the picture she made he squeezed in tight behind her and wrapped his arms around her slippery middle, and this time her shiver had nothing to do with the water temperature. “But _good morning_ anyway.”

 “I do,” she agreed, leaning against him instinctually, against the firm length of his cock that had only grown harder and more insistent when she’d interrupted him. Gendry was aching with the hot slick feel of wet skin and sleepy woman pressing up against him like that, the feel of _her_. He was certain there’d never be a time he didn’t burn with the need to touch her, cold showers or not, there’d never be a time that she couldn’t make him hard on sight no matter how often he’d been inside her. “I fucking hate mornings.” she said with a groan, and he murmured in sympathetic agreement, a mindless comforting croon that always seemed to either put her at ease or infuriate her.

Personally, Gendry had a newfound appreciation for mornings, and he'd rather enjoyed them since she’d started staying over every night.

Arya probably didn’t realize how good she looked drowsy and yawning, stalking about their flat (and he thought of it as theirs, though she still got her post delivered to her parent’s house and swore she only kept clothes here because he did laundry more often) wearing one of his shirts and mismatched socks, shoveling heaps of sugar into her tea and eating Coco Shreddies straight from the carton. He was certain she didn’t know that he liked waking before her just so he could watch her sleep peacefully next to him and enjoy the mindless way she turned towards him to cuddle close, the way she sighed softly when she dreamed and how she frowned if he jostled the bed or accidentally pulled the blankets off her toes. He _loved_ mornings with her.

“So did you get up just to steal all my hot water?” he asked casually, trying not to thrust against the distracting, slippery curve of her ass. He was failing miserably, and Arya moaned and melted against him when his hands slicked up and over her sides to explore the soapy rise of a breast and gently tease the hard peak of a nipple that had tightened at his touch. He worked his way back down again; pausing to trace a circle around her navel and feeling her quiver and jerk when he brushed his hands over her belly.

“No—that _tickles_ , Gendry—I’m supposed to have breakfast with Sansa and Mother. They’ve been after me for weeks, and if I go now then I can pacify both of them at the same time.”

“How long until they expect you?”

“I don’t know. Half an hour, maybe?”

Gendry pressed his face into the crook of her neck, past a wet veil of hair that smelled like citrus. “So you probably don’t have any time for me?” he asked regretfully, closing his lips over her earlobe and nibbling it softly, pressing kisses down to her shoulder and making good on that earlier urge he’d had to sample her taste. She was clean and fresh and sweet, like nothing at all but water and Arya. His hand skimmed lower on her belly and then lower still and her thighs parted helpfully when he slid his fingers between her legs. At the invitation he thrust his cock against her and felt her suck in a quick breath in response, encouraging him to keep going with the way she was grinding her hips back. “Or this?”

“No time,” she agreed breathlessly, but she didn’t brush him away or give any indication she was in a hurry, so he took a leisurely survey of her body while she’d decided to slow down and think it over. If nothing else it would give him something to think about when she’d left him still craving her in favor of breakfast meats and familial bonding.

“You’re wet,” he informed her, gently exploring her folds. She was impossibly warm from the steamy water pouring over them, and the thought of feeling the heat that surrounded his fingers around his cock was almost too much to bear, and yet the fiercest need she’d worked up in him was nothing compared to the way she made his heart stand still with the way she looked at him, and he wasn’t sure if it was the tight wet grasp of her cunt around him or her sleepy smile that made him want her more right now.

Gendry forced himself to clear his head and remind himself that she was going to miss breakfast if he didn’t put some distance between the two of them, and he’d already been in here long enough.  “Too bad about breakfast,” he told her remorsefully, releasing her to finish her shower in peace.

He’d just reached for his towel when he felt a small insistent pair of wet hands against his chest. The towel landed on the floor in a heap, and he landed up against the cool tile of the wall with damp grinning lips against his own and Arya easily teasing her way between them to taste his tongue. He gasped involuntarily when her hand closed around his cock and gave a soft squeeze, and when she pulled away to catch her breath her smile was fully awake and completely devilish.

“Yeah,” she agreed, “too bad about breakfast.”

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably be incorporated into a part of a series at some point... my apologies if the lack of penis actually IN vagina was disappointing, but that's just where it decided it was going to end for now. Sorry to be a tease. Blame my fickle smut muses.


End file.
